I've Nowhere to Stand (And Now Nowhere to Hide)
by Jane Kelley
Summary: Kerrianne, Fiona, and Chibs deal with the aftermath of what transpired in Charming.
1. One

**_Warning:_** description of domestic abuse.

Just a quick note to say that while re-watching Season 3 on Netflix I began thinking about what it might have been like for Fiona and Kerrianne to have to live with Jimmy after the events of Season 2. Also, I have dyslexia so while I try to proof everything very carefully somethings will always slip through the cracks. I think I got all of the errors, but I'm sorry if some slipped by me. I'm also not sure I like the transition from present day, to memory, back to present day so any reader's thoughts on that part of the story would be lovely!

* * *

Kerrianne is a reformed thumb sucker. The bad habit soothed her through childhood; she graduated to nail biting during puberty. Like most addicts, Kerrianne only feeds the dependency in private. She tries to keep it her dirty little secret. If Jimmy catches her tormenting the nail buds at her fingertips, he will tease her. When Ma sees, she worries.

And Kerrianne's Ma worries a lot lately. Especially since she and Jimmy returned from California, a journey that left her mother with a necklace of bruises about her neck. He refuses to let them alone; he forbade them to leave the house and posted guards to maintain the state of house arrest they currently enjoy. Jimmy also stole the locks that once made Kerrianne feel safe when he removed all but the front and back doors.

Rarely, does she see Jimmy in person anymore, which fills her with both peace and anxiety. Kerrianne saw him on the eve he and her Ma returned, and tonight he appeared suddenly and toke her Ma into another part of the house.

She thinks about the last time he darkened the doorstep while she waits for her Ma to return; her fingers protest against their abuse. Since Kerrianne's body began the awkward shift from girl to woman, she endeavors not to let Jimmy catch her alone. How he looks at her sometimes, well, Kerrianne does not think he would hurt her. But telling herself that never completely quells the uneasy feeling clawing at the pit of her stomach (she retreats then to the sanctuary of her bedroom; she chomps on her nails and blasts the music through her headphones until her cuticles and eardrums burn).

The night they came home, Jimmy cornered her in the kitchen.

_While Kerrianne reached for a glass, Jimmy put a hand down on either side of her, effectively trapping her against the countertop. She freezes, glass in hand. _

_She can smell his breath and it reeks of whisky. _

_"Your father wanted me to give you this," he said. With one hand, he pushes her hair away from the side of her neck, sweeping it over her shoulder. Then he presses a kiss to her neck, razing every hair on Kerrianne's body. _

_"Stop," she whispers. And her voice sounds so weak, even to her own ears, that she knows, she just feels in the pit of her stomach where instinct lives, that Jimmy will not listen. _

_"I'm just trying to pass on a little love from your father. He'd be so unhappy if he knew you didn't want it." _

_She breaks out into a cold sweat; the glass slips in her hand. "My father would kill you without a second thought if he knew about the way you look at me."_

_Jimmy spins her around so fast that Kerrianne does not react until after the back of his hand finds her face. _

Pain like she has never known before fills her senses. Her ears and heart pound and shock dulls her reaction. Jimmy stands over her with a look of sheer murder on his face.

_"You ought to show me some respect. Do you known where you and your crazy bitch of a Ma would be today if I hadn't stepped in?"_

_"Yeah." Kerrianne grits her teeth, pushes aside her better judgment to just shut up. "I never stop thinking about where we'd be without you, Jimmy. We'd be with my real Da." _

_Then Jimmy's undoing the buckle of his belt and pulling it through the loops. Kerrianne curls inward onto herself, arms above her head as she anticipates the crack of leather. When it comes, breaking like lightening upon her shoulders, she expects it to hurt but the pain knocks the breath from her lungs too. _

_She curls in on herself as Jimmy circles her like an animal, the type of predator that plays with its prey before devouring it in one. _

_Again he belts her. _

_"Who raised your ungrateful ass?" Jimmy demands. "Who staid around to put food on the table? Clothes on your back? A roof over your head? Me! I've got news for you, lass, this image you've got of Saint Filip is a cruel lie fed to you by your mother. I could tell you stories that would give you nightmares." _

_"Jesus Christ, Jimmy! What the hell are you doing?" _

_"Teaching your brat a lesson, Fi. A lesson that's been a long time coming." _

_Kerrianne raises her head as her mother steps in front of her. "Go to your room, Kerri," she commands, voice trembling under the weight of fury. _

_"Ma-"_

_"Now, Kerri!" _

_And Kerrianne ran like a coward up the stairs to her bedroom where she ruined her fingernails and ran down the battery of her iPod to drown out the sound of her stepfather abusing her mother. This has happened in the past, but never because of something that Kerrianne did. _

_The reality makes her feel impossibly small. _

Eventually, her thumb begins to bleed. It seems like an age before her mother returns, without Jimmy in tow.

"You should be asleep, lovey."

"Are you all right, Ma?"

Her Ma smiles, a small movement of her mouth that looks painful. "Nothing a good night's sleep can't mend."

Kerrianne knows that her mother will not sleep, though. Ma is always alert; eyes peeled for an escape route. Her Ma changes into pajama bottoms and a shirt with efficiency. A bruise the size of the six counties themselves stretches over her side. The spots of yellow around the outside mean it has begun to heel. She wonders what her Da might say if he saw it.

Her Ma turns off the light and crawls into bed besides Kerrianne. She strokes Kerrianne's hair; there are fresh bruises on her wrists.

"Ma?"

"Yes, Kerri."

"Why didn't you go to Da when I was little?"

Her Ma sighs. "Oh, Kerri. It's not as simple as all that."

For a second, Kerrianne thinks her mother will go on, will offer up an explanation that justifies Jimmy's presence in their lives. In the end, Kerrianne gets silence and she pulls away, rolling onto her side. She slips her thumb into her mouth and, for the first time in years, Kerrianne sucks to soothe away the horror of what her life has become.


	2. Two

_**Warning:** _brief depiction of domestic abuse and sexual content

* * *

Fiona contemplates the crown molding as Jimmy ruts her into the mattress, considers the color of her bedroom wall, and anticipates the moment he will finish. From the strain of his pelvis, the tilt and push against her own in a passionless deadlock, she will not have long to wait.

She wraps her arms around Jimmy's shoulders in a cheep imitation of an embrace, and stairs directly into the bright light of her bedroom lamp, into the face of the alarm clock until Jimmy groans, stiffens against her. He pulls out, rolls to the side; Fiona's thighs bear the sticky evidence of his release.

Jimmy wraps an arm around her waste, pulls her close, and kisses her naked shoulder. Fiona managed to stay in the tight circle of his arms until he drifts off. Mercifully, she does not have long to wait; men fall asleep so quickly after sex.

Fiona detaches, obstructs the evidence of their coupling with a quick swipe of a tissue, pulls on her clothing, straightens her hair, and then steels Jimmy's mobile from his pant's pocket.

She moves like a shadow, creeping from her own bed through the halls of her own home like a brigand with the weight of Filip's heart in one hand, the burden of Jimmy's love in the other, and Kerrianne's life balanced carefully between her full palms.

Her daughter lays in her bed, tucked underneath the blanket, eyes wide and glazed.

"You should be asleep, lovey."

"Are you all right, Ma?"

Kerrianne's voice sounds so tiny, soft from abuse and fear. Another rive opens in Fiona's heart.

She smiles and lies. "Nothing a good nights sleep can't mend."

But Fiona cannot sleep, not now. The opportunity to escape might arise at any given moment, so she must be ready to grab her daughter and flee. They have only one chance because Jimmy will kill her if he catches them.

Quickly, Fiona changes into pajamas (wincing as she raises her arms to unclasp her bra, the bruised skin of her side protests the pull of skin as she raises her arms), turns off the light, and climbs beneath the covers. She strokes Kerrianne's hair; there is congealed blood around the boarders of Kerri's nails. _Oh, my darling girl. _

"Ma?"

"Yes, Kerri."

"Why didn't you go to Da when I was little?"

"Oh, Kerri. It's not as simple as all that."

Fiona sighs, reminded of the secrets held close to her soul like a brier patch around a rose. _Though there is nothing pretty left of my spirit, save Kerrianne._

Disappointed, Kerrianne rolls away, pulling the blanket up to her face, using her hair as a veil. Fiona waits for her daughter's breath to deepen and slow before pulling the thumb from the pleat of her daughter's mouth, smoothing the mane of hair away from Kerri's face.

Then she rises from bed, purpose strengthening her resolve. Her side aches as she bends, reaching for the dirty clothes in the hamper, finding her pants, retrieving Jimmy's mobile from the pocket. She pressed the keypad, wondering what time it was in Charming. Regardless, Filip picks up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

Fiona swallows hard, past the hard ball of emotion because until this moment she had not known he was alive with any degree of certainty. Jimmy could have killed him easily.

"Hello?"

"It's me," she grounds out.

"Jesus, Fi. I've been trying to get a hold of you for days."

Fiona's eyes drift closed. She takes a deep breath, deep enough for her ribs to ache. It feels like days since she has breathed properly. "Yeah, well..."

"Are you all right?" He asks.

"I'm in one piece," She says because bruises heal.

"And Kerrianne?"

"Kerri's fine." The lie slips from trembling lips

"Listen," Filip says, voice low and urgent. "This has to stay between us, Fi. We might be headed your way."

"What? Why?"

He went on to explain about Jax Teller's missing baby, about Cameron, about Jimmy leading them around on a wild goose chase.

"I'm sorry, love, I don't know why Jimmy lied about the babe. I'm in the dark, but he said something tonight, about Kellan Ashby."

"What did he say?"

"He's getting ready to make a move against him." She swallows, remembering the feral look in Jimmy's eyes as he talked about murdering one of her oldest friends. "Greed is making Jimmy sloppy. He's demanding too much reward for his work."

A beat of silence ruined by the beautiful sound of him breathing into the receiver. Memory stirred, tender as any fresh bruise.

_A pair of strong arms props her up, holds her close. A mouth pressed to her ear, a cheek pressed against her own. Filip's breathing labored and warm. _

_Fiona presses her nose into his shoulder; he smells of worn leather and cigarettes. Her fingers clutch at the reaper on his back. "I have to go soon," she whispers. _

_"Aye," he replies, mouth finding the sliver of skin behind her ear. "Fi -"_

_Her whole body feels like an exposed nerve. _

"Fi?"

She is still an exposed nerve, battered by every strike and slap of life. Once more, Fiona locates her voice and forces it out. "I need to go."

On the other side of the world Filip sighs. "Stay safe, Fi. Just...Tell Kerrianne that I love her, yeah?"

"I will. You stay safe too love."

Fiona closes the phone. She presses the heel of her palm to her mouth, stifling any response but the instinct to survive.


	3. Three

The _claddagh_ tattoo fused to Chibs' side, etched with needle and ink to his ribs, the cage on bones shielding his heart, burned beneath the tattoo artist's graceful hands when he received it fifteen years ago.

Every beautiful thing in Chibs' life hurts.

Watching Fiona stand by the sink, filling the kettle, negotiating the small parameters of the flophouse kitchen with ease.

Fidelity.

Love.

Friendship.

The fragments of their past glittering between them like shards of glass.

The sweeping loops and points that made up the crown ran without seem down to the hills of the heart, secure in the palms of two eternal hands. Slated on either hand, the inky scrawl only slightly faded around the edges now, Fiona and Kerrianne's names endured, a constant in his life. In spite of their physical absence, his wife and daughter always remained at Chibs' side.

Chibs lent against the fridge just beyond the scope of Kerrianne's periphery. The size of the kitchen meant that he and Fiona almost brush shoulders whenever one of them moves. He does not think Fiona minds; she lets him kiss her and touch her without complaint. The finger shaped bruises on her wrists the only evidence that Jimmy ever mistreated her and Kerrianne during their time in lockdown. Apart from the exhaustion hanging over both their heads, like a storm cloud, both his wife and daughter appear physically in tacked.

Blessedly whole.

Both mother and daughter wore clean clothing; Kerrianne had a coat and a hat to keep her warm, shoes free of holes, but than Chibs would look down into his daughter's face and see the same mien that Fiona used to hid all of her secrets, the dark things held close to the heart.

Chibs did not want his daughter swallowing secrets and dressing up skeletons. Digesting horror the way Fiona had since she was a child broke most people.

In the other room, Kerrianne bit her fingernails, one leg bouncing in time to the beat of whatever blasted through her headphones.

_She's tall_, he thinks stupidly.

Fiona lifts her eyes from the stove and Chibs realizes that he just said that out loud. "At the rate Kerri's growing, the GP thinks she'll be taller than I am in a year."

"She's beautiful, Fi" Chibs says. His heart capers every time he looks at Kerrianne. Almost as an afterthought he adds, "Jimmy was right."

"Well, I never thought I'd hear those words coming out of your mouth."

"He told me Kerrianne looked like you. 'She's all Fiona,' he said."

"Thank God for that," Fiona says with a lightness that does not meet her eyes, a frozen smile. She sets the water to boil with a slight turn of her wrist, the movement graceful with its functionality. The muscle and veins and bones flex beneath the evidence of her broken blood.

Agreeing with Jimmy leaves a sour taste in his mouth; the bile of past crimes and unpaid retribution. Ever since he was almost blown to pieces in Charming, Chibs swayed between terror for what Jimmy could do to Fiona and Kerrianne and hatred for the man himself so red it still blazes.

_"Who do you think I am, one of your old ladies? Jimmy'd kill me if he knew I was hear."_

_"Have you seen any recent picture of Kerrianne? She's all Fiona. Gorgeous. Reaching that magical change...tight little curves, breasts popping. Timely, actually. Fiona's looks fading. Can hardly catch an edge anymore. But Kerrianne... the thoughts that enter my brain...impure, awful, I think. But then I recall she's not my daughter. So what's the sin?" _

_I'm going to kill him; I'm going to skin the bastard alive, _Chibs thinks, without an ounce of remorse or a degree of uncertainty.

Heart pounding, Chibs stairs at her bruises aware that they no longer hurt Fiona, but memories can become a constant ache, a daily pain. Debilitating. Fiona might persevere, her heals have the tendency to dig in against animosities, but even the strongest spirit can snap.

And Kerrianne barely talks too him. She responds to any questions with as few words as possible, eyes lowered after the first fleeting glance, as if rationing her voice and her gaze.

His girl's silence feels wrong. Kerrianne screamed bloody murder the very second she could. The doctor laid her on Fiona's chest - made a passing comment about a healthy pair of lungs - before turning his attention back to Fiona. Kerrianne wailed and kicked, body and faced flushed where they were not covered in sticky fluids. Chibs feared he might break her at first, but Fiona would not hear of him not holding their daughter. She handed Kerrianne over with instructions to _"support her head, Filip. Yes. Just like that, love." _Chibs gazed down at his daughter's small face, looked into her eyes, and saw reflected back at him every wrong, every sin unconfessed, and he wept.

A hand on his shoulder rouses him.

"Where'd you go?" Fiona asked.

"Just...thinking," he says slowly.

"Dangerous," She says, her smile looks a little less cold now.

"Does Kerrianne remember anything about me?"

Fiona stilled, humor fading. "Do you remember anything from when you were six?" She eventually asked, gentle as he ever heard her.

"Not much," Chibs said, throat tight. 

"Sometimes," Fiona said. "Sometimes, when Kerri asked, when Jimmy wasn't around, I'd tell her about you. I'd - " Her voice broke and died, her whole body tensed. She covered her face with a trembling hand, breathing ragged.

"Fi." Chibs reached for her, startled, hand brushing her shoulder. The barest pressure and Fiona straightened and moved away, as far as she could get in the small kitchen. She began rifling through the cabinets.

"Fi -"

"I'm - _Oh!_" She drew in a sharp breath, a hiss of pain escaping from between clenched teeth. Slowly she lowered her left arm, blanching.

"Here," Chibs said, "I've got it."

"I can manage," Fiona snapped. She lowered her left arm, reaching instead with her right. Their fingers meet over the top of a box of tea, the slightest brush of skin on skin. He has seen ever mile of her naked skin; mapped it with hands and mouth and tongue, but these short glancing touches feel more intimate somehow, like the ones from their first days together before they had done anything, been through everything. Maybe it's being back in Ireland, or their daughter sitting in the other room, but everything feels so fragile and more important.

Fiona turns around, leaning into the counter. Chibs places his hands on either side of her body, leaning close.

"How are you really, Fi?"

"I'm fine, love." She reaches up, fingers stroking over his check, running up over beard and scar to card through his hair. "How's the jet lag?"

"Oh, its grand. I feel like I've been hit over the head with a mallet."

"Um." Fiona sighed, arms lowering to wrap around his waist, her weight leaning against him rather than the counter. Chibs ran a hand over her hair, kissed her temple; his hands trailed up her sides, bumping her breasts (Fiona shifted against him) on his way up to her shoulders, finding the tense muscles, kneading.

"You look like I feel," Fiona said after a moment.

"Which is?"

"Haggard."

Chibs lifted one hand, brought the inside of the wrist to his mouth. He kissed the abused skin, working his way around. "So how are you really?"

Fiona's stilled. "It's nothing that won't _heal_."

On the stove, the kettle whistled. Fiona moved away, leaving him feeling cold as he watched her pour tea into mugs, adding milk and sugar to one and a generous amount of whiskey into two.

"Take that to Kerri," she instructed, handing him the virgin one.

A million things rest on the tip of his tongue; the impulse to try and confer them - how happy seeing her makes him feel, how beautiful she is, the bone deep relief that both she and her mother are safe, that he will keep Jimmy from darkening their doorsteps - and his fear of inserting his foot directly into his mouth warring within him.

He gives Kerrianne her tea with a gentle, "Here you are, darling," and a smile.

Kerrianne glances up and quickly looks down at her lap again. "Thanks," she murmurs in a small voice.

Chibs walks back into the kitchen, resumes his post by the fridge and by Fiona. A hand on Chibs shoulder steals his attention.

"You should talk to her," Fiona advises, pressing a mug into his hands, sipping from her own. "She'll like you - you aren't her mother."

"Yeah, well..."

"You're the best example she has of what a father should be," Fiona insisted.

"So, no pressure than," He said with a lightness he does not feel.

Fiona's expression twisted, he could see the sorrow hollowing her out from within. "She loves you, Filip. I swear she's never wanted someone to like her so much before in her life. She's so nervous meeting you."

"What's she have to be nervous about?" Chibs demanded. "She's my little girl. I don't just like her, I love her. Always have; always will. That's a fact."

"Why don't you tell her that," Fiona suggested. And he's reminded of her handing him, despite his fears, his daughter for the first time. "I'll take my tea, go have a gossip with Mo. Give you two some privacy, yeah?"

"Okay," he said, surprised when she reaches up to kiss him, mouth soft and pliant. The motion chaste and easy. "You really okay, love?"

Fiona wavered. A smile came to her face. She won't pretend that everything is rosy but she's not ready to break down either. "I'm much better now for having seen you."

He grabs the curve of her waist and kisses her, hard and long, in full view of their daughter and everyone else in the living room. He imagines he can feel Kerrianne's eyes on his back, but when he breaks the kiss and turns, she's looking down at her iPod again. The door closes with a small pop, leaving him alone with his daughter for the first time in nine years.


	4. Four

Kerrianne holds her mug in both hands, studying the rough edges of her nails while resisting the urge to bite them. Fingernails are made out of a protein called keratin, and scars form after an injury to replace damaged collagen with new. Kerrianne knows this because they learned about it in biology the week Jimmy pulled her out of school.

The scars on either side of her Da's mouth are white with age and too precise to have been gained by accident; there is something sinister in the specific symmetry of them.

He sits beside her at one of the picnic tables outside of the SAMBEL clubhouse, closer than ever, sipping at his own tea and looking at her with a gentleness that has guilt crawling up Kerrianne's spine.

After she and her Ma got away, Kerrianne had time to think. She waited, soothing her frayed nerves by cutting her finger nails with her teeth, and she thought or she tried not to think. Either way, ideas hurtled through her mind like a run away train. She imagined what Jimmy would do to her and her Ma when he caught up with them - every detail in gory high definition - she contemplated the wounds he had already inflicted.

Kerrianne thinks about that night in the kitchen more than she should. The details, too vivid too block, divide and multiply, feeding the tumor of fear calcifying in the pit of her stomach.

She tried too to remember her Da, but every time she touched upon those memories they bleed together and faded. She remembers the sensation of flying, once, that the man besides her caught her in his arms and that she laughed with delight.

The man besides her looks at her fondly, like all he wants to do is sit and drink her in, but Kerrianne no longer knows how to fly and she fears leaping and falling. Her Da and she are strangers, and Jimmy's vile hate filled words, which spewed as he stood over her in the kitchen, have leeched into her soul like a poison.

Her Da smiles down at her, oblivious. "You, ah, look more like your Ma than me," He says after another long moment of silence. "You probably get that a lot."

"Yeah." _I'm just like Ma in everyway that doesn't count for shite, _Kerrianne thinks viciously, recalling how her Ma bore the brunt of Jimmy's abuse in steely silence.

Her father opens his mouth, looks like he wants to say something, but than he takes a long sip of tea. Desperate to do something, Kerrianne drinks her tea in quick gulps, throat burning as the liquid goes down the wrong pipe in a hot rush. She coughs, choking and spluttering.

Her Da thumps her on the back - hard. Kerrianne's eyes fill with tears as her throat clears; she sucks in huge gulps of air. Her vision blurs; tears spring to her eyes.

"Steady, darling."

Her Da's hand rests on her back; just resting, warm and large and heavy. She feels so ashamed of her inability to make the great leap of faith.

A tear slips from her eye; she bats it away quickly, sniffing. She brings her thumb to her mouth and bites the nail.

_Finally._

Her mouth trembles around the cuticle.

"Hey," her Da says softly. "Hey, it's -"

The tears press against her eyelids; Kerrianne blinks them back, breathing rough in her own ears. Her Da's hand moves up and down her back; hot tears slip down her face as she begins to cry in earnest.

"Sweetheart, it's all right...It's...Shit..."

Kerrianne feels miserable crying like some stupid little kid.

Two arms wrap around her, pulling her in close, a strong, comforting hug. She can feel a wild thumping against her ear and she registers that it's her father's heart. "It's all right, darling," Her father says and his voice sounds funny, off. She remembers the sight of stray tears on his scarred cheeks, hours ago, after he drew her and her Ma to him for the first time in nearly a decade.

"I'm s-sorry," Kerrianne gasps.

"Yeah, now. None of that. You've been to the wars."

"Yeah," she agrees, whipping her face on the sleeve of her jacket. She wonders how well he knows Jimmy.

His lips skim the top of her head, pressing a fatherly kiss to the crown. "It's all going to be all right, Kerri, I promise."

And Kerrianne presses herself close and wills herself to believe.


	5. Five

_**Warning:**_brief description of sexual content and domestic violence, the stories rating gets cranked up to M next chapter.

* * *

Maureen sat at the table, back curved in a slump, with a bottle of whiskey before her and a cigarette balanced loosely on her fingertips when Fiona let herself into the kitchen.

"He looks well, doesn't he?"

"Aye, he does at that." Fiona sank down into the seat across from her friend, side aching a little as her ribs protested the climb up the flight of stairs. Every breath too deep and extended twitch of muscle sends a dull pain tripping through her body.

Maureen's brow furrowed in concern, noticing Fiona wince. "How's the pain, Fi?"

"Better now it's heeling."

"You should have that looked at. Make sure nothings been broken."

"I've had broken ribs before," Fiona said recalling the sound of painted metal crumpling and the blare of a car horn, the taste of blood in her mouth, and pain firing along every synapse until her vision blacked. "Don't worry," she said as Maureen's mouth twisted downwards around a breath of smoke. "Filip will notice the minute he gets me out of my pants."

"He was a medic for five months."

"And he boxed for years before that. He's busted plenty of ribs."

"He never busted yours though." Maureen's eyes glinted, shrewd. _Don't say it, Mo._ "How much does he know exactly? About what happened after Jimmy excommunicated him."

"Not much. Just the bare bones of it." Fiona held up her wrist, the bruises exposed to the sunlight streaming pathetically through the kitchen window. "He's seen these and managed not to fly completely off the handle. But he knows nothing about Jimmy going after Kerri with a belt. Unless my girl has started talking, which seems unlikely. She can barley string two blood words together in front of her own Da, Mo. Much less speak directly to him. And that's my fault..." Fiona's voice broke; she swallowed her regret. "My fault for keeping Jimmy around."

"You couldn't have goon to Filip in Charming even if you had kicked Jimmy out." Maureen sighed. "After everything went down, you didn't have much of a choice."

"No," Fiona agreed, reaching for the whiskey. She spiked her tea again, more generous this time. She tried not to think about the catalyst that had pushed an ocean between her and her husband. Dragging up the past never solved for the present; unearthing the old bones of stories and secrets from their long dug graves never unearthed any solutions.

But the ghosts of the past had been disturbed, and they rattled through Fiona's soul and howled until she thought her bones might split.

"I can't tell him about Jimmy beating Kerri," Fiona said thinking back to nine years ago and the spark that sent Filip off on a hunt for blood and vengeance. "Not yet. Not after last time."

"Oh, Fi," Maureen sighed, expression pained. "Filip couldn't have done anything less once he knew."

"If Kerri tells him...then so be it. But I'll lie if it keeps him from doing something rash."

"So what'll you tell him when he asks about the bruise?"

"Jimmy knew Filip had had me. Took his temper out on me." Fiona touched her neck, recalling the sensation of Jimmy's hands around her throat, squeezing, her desperate gasps for air. "It's not a complete lie."

_Fiona stood beneath the hot spray for a good half hour scrubbing her skin raw. She turned her nose into her shoulder, sniffed, and satisfied that she could no longer smell Filip's scent on her skin she shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. _

_She ran the towel over her body, wiped the water from her skin and, reaching that intimate area at the crux of her thighs, paused. The memory of Filip moving inside of her, thrusts sure and deep once they found their footing against the door of that disgusting public loo, causing her private bits to tingle and respond against her fingers. _

_Her legs wrapped around his waist as they hit their stride. _

_"Is that -" _

_"It's good," she gasped, "It's really...Oh, Jesus," she moaned. _

_It would have been sweet even without the orgasm that left her adrift; free from fear and worry for the first time in months. _

_Fiona felt the first stirrings of desire again, white hot and desperate lust, the kind that left a woman wet and smelling of sex. She moved her hand away, focused on drying her hair, rubbing lotion into her legs. She examined her neck in the mirror but could find no telling mark._

_Satisfied, Fiona pulled her robe tightly closed around her and left the sanctuary of the loo for the bedroom. _

_She did not expect Jimmy to be waiting for her, the plain cotton of her panties dangling in his hand. _

_He made a show of sniffing the crotch. "How's Filip love?" _

_"Filip who?" _

_He slapped her across the face so fast Fiona had no time to brace herself. She hit the carpet hard, blinking away stars. Then Jimmy was on top of her with his fingers around her throat._

* * *

Hours later, after Fiona stumbled from the ruins of the van, after tucking her daughter into Kell's second bedroom, she curled up on one of the sofas in the den. She put on the telly for some background sound because she hated how the silence felt in her ears. The news flickered to life; she watched an overly attractive female anchor standing in front of yellow police tap. The car, spotted with bullet holes and quickly abandoned once they realized the front tire had a hole, filled the background. It was odd, watching her life playing out on a television screen.

She must have dropped off to sleep at some point because when she woke the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa was tucked in around her, and Filip slept in an armchair nearby.

Fiona kissed her husband awake, sliding into his lap afterwards. Filip's arms wrapped around her, nails racking along her back in a friendly scratch that made Fiona want to purr. Ignoring her ribs, she pushed back against his hand.

"Where's Kerri?"

"Asleep upstairs," Fiona said, pillowing her head on his shoulder, making herself comfortable. "Once the adrenaline wore off she couldn't keep her eyes open. Where you followed?"

"No. Casey gave me a bit of trouble."

"Good. He's a glorified guard dog; that's what he's there for - to keep trouble makers out." She reached up, traced a scar with her fingertip. The muscles in his face lifted; she felt his smile.

"I'm not here to cause him any trouble," Filip said. His hand slid up under the tail of her shirt, palm warm against the skin at the small of her back. "You on the other hand..."

Fiona laughed.

And than Filip was kissing her, tongue parting her lips. Desire curled, warm and delicious, in her belly. "So what are you waiting for?" She demanded in a whisper against his lips. "Cause me some trouble."


	6. Six

_**A/N:**_If you like this story and haven't read any of Whoneedsasword's fan fiction, go check out her work at: u/4262423/Whoneedsasword.

* * *

They stay wound around the other after the riposte of hips ends. Orgasm states the tangle of emotions and the jetlag, which prick like thorns against Chibs bones. This feels good; Fiona's hands move up and down over the expanse of his back, hands stuffed between cotton and skin, her shoulder soft and smooth beneath his lips. He kisses away sweat, whispers nonsense (_you're a blood marvel, lass_). She sooths away life's barbs like a balm to a burn, the embrace of his wife's body a familiar bind.

Chibs is buried in her still - to the hilt - and he begins to pull out from the comfortable snare of tangled limbs and galloping hearts because Fiona shifts beneath him with a sigh, leg flexing. Her hands grab at his biceps, closing in a vice, as he moves. Her face turns into his, seeking his mouth for a long kiss.

Then she lets him up, satisfied.

"We really should be getting dressed. The last thing I need is for the Casey brothers to see me without my knickers." Her grin cuts threw the darkness, bright and strong. Chibs tucks himself back into his pants, closes the fly.

Fiona raise her arms over her head, shoulders lifting, head tilting back. Her mussed up hair brushes her shoulders. Her bare breasts rise, bouncing slightly as her body lifts towards the ceiling.

She pulls the cups of her bra back up.

"Don't take away the view, love."

"You've had enough for one night," Fiona replies, voice light and quick and so damn _Fiona_. She pulls her underwear up from where it dangles around an ankle. "Wouldn't know what to do with any more."

"Oh, I know exactly what I'd do." Chibs grabs her about the middle, yanks her into his lap.

Fiona gasps; a painful little sound that steals the moment. The dim light thrown over the room by the telly casts a blue glow on her face, illuminating her grimace.

"You all right, Fi?"

"Get the light."

He sets Fiona on her feet and flicks the switch by the door. The light above them flickers, casting shadows around the den. Fiona's shirt hangs slightly off one shoulder, revealing a bruise, ugly and extended past the edge of her cotton shirt.

"Jesus, Fi."

She grabs his hand as it tries to slide into her shirt. "It looks worse than it is," Fiona says, steel in her voice.

Chibs girds his loins for a fight. "Let me see it then."

"It's a _bruise_." Fiona's head tilts to the side, chin raised slightly, the line of her lips set and stubborn. "I don't need a goddamn medic."

Chibs pulls his hand from her grasp, and hanks her shirt from one shoulder. Fiona twists away from him, sidestepping his concern. She turns off the light and sits on the couch.

He stars at her shoulders, recalling the pain that trailed the blade as the knife slid into his cheek. Jimmy marked him after delivering a painful beating (he spat and pissed and shat blood for a fucking week) meant to slay. He does not have to ask if this is Jimmy's handiwork; Chibs is well acquainted with the man's fist.

"Was this Jimmy?"

But he asks anyway, struggling to keep his voice level. The bruising on his wife's body the accumulation of all his fears since leaving her in Charming

"You don't need to ask; you already know the answer." Fiona sighed. "Come sit down."

Chibs does and Fiona turns to look at him, brow furrowed. "I can't cry on your shoulder and play the victim, love. I knew the price for going to you in Charming. I was willing to pay it."

"What -"

Fiona shook her head. "Doesn't matter."

"If you aren't going to lean on me now, darling, when?"

"The last time I leant on you," She traces a scar with her fingertips, "Jimmy did this. You run off half-cocked again, this time he won't fuck around and just make it personal. He'll kill _you_," her voice broke and bent, lips curved beneath the weight of fear and sorrow. "I..."

"Easy," Chibs says, wrapping an arm across her shoulders.

Fiona leant against his chest her breathing rough on his collar bone. "I can't have you dead, Filip. And Kerrianne needs her Da. And -"

"All right," he murmured, lips pressed against her temple. "I'm not - "

"You can't promise me you'll make it out of this whole," Fiona said, hands fisted in his shirt.

"I'll be careful," He swore. "Careful as I can. But I'm going' to carve Jimmy in to a million little pieces, love."

"Just think with your head this time. Not your heart." Her eyes closed. "_Christ. _I'm so bloody tired, Filip."

They arrange themselves on the couch so Fiona rests on her uninjured side; her head pillowed on his arm, the afghan wrapped around them both. Chibs thinks about the fights that sometimes shook the walls of the tenement house that belonged to his parents in Glasgow. The Man sometimes came, flashing his badge, and if he made no arrests than the fight escalated in his absence. Someone always ended up dead, usually the little woman.

"You can examine if it you want," Fiona says after a moment of silence, her breathing flat and smooth.

Chibs runs his hand along her ribs, feeling for any unusually bumps that will signal a break in the bone.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'd feel the break if there was one" He says. "But you're just bruised. You should get some ice on it. Take something for the pain."

Fiona shook her head. She threw an arm over his chest. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah." Chibs kissed her forehead. "I know."


	7. Seven

_**A/N:**_ And so we come to the end.

* * *

Kerrianne's eyes opened to darkness, complete and overwhelming. She fumbled for her iPod; the analogue at the top of the screen read 03:05. Sleepy, she rolled over and slipped again into unconsciousness, the cotton bandage wrapped around her hand soft against her cheek.

_Kerrianne hit the floor of the car a split second before the first gunman opened fire. Her Ma pushed her -_ hard _- out of the way, breath sharp and fast in Kerrianne's ear as she flung her body over top. Even with bullets ripping threw metal above her head, Kerrianne did not register why her Ma lay on top of her, or why her Da knelt over the both of them, a crushing weight, until it ended. _

_And then someone - Kerrianne thought it might be Trinny -screamed: "What the hell was that?" _

_The doors opened, grating on their hinges. The car, a broken mess, trembled as the people around her moved. _

_"What do we do?" _

_"What do we do? We can't stay here!" _

_"We don't know who they where or where they went." _

_"Aye. We need back up." _

_"We can't stay here, come on." _

_"Jacky-boy. Your call." _

_"Get up, Kerri," Her Ma said, voice tight. _

_Kerrianne crawled towards the open door on hands and knees, stumbling out into the cold night air. The wind wiped her hair; she smelled gun smoke and burning rubber and her legs buckled. She caught herself on her hands and knees, felt her skin break but strangely there was no hot rush of pain. _

_"Jesus," Trinny said. _

_Da scoped her up. For a moment, Kerrianne inhaled the lingering smell of cigarettes on his clothing and than her Ma and Trinny held her between them. _

_Ma's hands touched her face, looking her over. "Are you hit?" _

_Kerrianne blinked, eyes burning. Her Ma was shaking. _

_"Kerri!" _

_"What's wrong with her?" Trinny demanded, voice high. Afraid. _

_"She's in shock," Her Da said. "Fi, just...Keep her upright. Keep her moving." _

_"Aye, love." _

_They walked back; the men with their guns drawn, Kerrianne tucked tightly beneath her Ma's wing. They stumbled into the warm of the flophouse and Kerrianne noticed for the first time that she could feel her pulse leaping in her hand. She glanced down at her palm and screamed as she saw the shard of glass shoved beneath her skin. _

_Everyone jumped and stared at her - and she began to cry. _

_Again. _

_Her Ma swore in Gaelic and her Da grabbed her wrist, grip gentle, to examine her palm. _

_"Come on. Over here," He said, sounding tired and looking old. _

_He led her to the sink, an arm around her shoulder as everyone else crowded into the other room and someone ran to get Maureen. Ma followed them, arms wrapped around herself. _

_"What are you doing?" Kerrianne asked, wincing as he held her hand beneath a warm soft stream of water. She loathed the small sound her voice made. "You aren't going to pull it out?" She asked, incredulous. _

_"Kerri," Her Ma said, and as Kerrianne turned her head, her Da pulled the glass out of her palm. He was quick but the adrenaline that had kept her calm on the walk back had faded and Kerrianne felt everything; her pulse, the sensation of the glass moving beneath her skin, and the resounding pain._

_The blood swelled around the cut. Kerrianne watched the red run over her hand, cradled in between her Da's rough palms, and slip down the drain. _

_Her Ma brushed a stray bit of hair back behind her ear, pressed a kiss against Kerrianne's temple. "I think you'll live, love."_

* * *

Chibs sprung to life quickly; awake suddenly and with a start. The texture of this waking, instinctively different, he could pin to the woman cuddled close bedsides him. No man ever slept soundly with a partner. A bedmate meant sex, yes, and tossing and turning and snoring and cover-hogging and a bad nights sleep more often than not.

Fiona lay on her back next to him, head still pillowed on his arm. She studied the fingers of one hand, the twin resting on his other arm beneath the afghan.

"Whatch'a doing, Fi?" He asked, watching her sniff her fingertips.

"Good morning, love," Fiona said, turning to face him.

"Is it morning already?"

"Four-forty."

"That's not mornin.'" Chibs grunted, head finding the ball of her shoulder; a warm, comfortable substitute for a pillow. Fiona did him one better and cradled his head against her breast, fingers moving through his hair. He nestled in, past the gap of her shirt. His ear pressed up against her heart beat, listened to the steady pump of blood. "Why are you awake?"

"I can't seem to sleep too deeply these days."

"Your safe here, Fi. I wouldn't let you and Kerri stay with Kellan if I thought Jimmy might find you here."

"No. It's not that," Fiona whispered, her voice a brush of air on his forehead. "I couldn't sleep when Jimmy had us under lockdown. We were only getting one chance to get clear. Couldn't afford to miss it. My internal clock's just a bit screwy now is all."

"Everything's gone a bit screwy."

"Yeah," Fiona agreed, sighing. "I need to get up."

"Where you going?" Chibs asked, reluctantly sitting up and letting her go. Much to his disappointment, Fiona pulled her trousers on, did the buttons of her shirt up.

"I smell like sex. I need a shower."

"You smell bloody marvelous," He said watching her roll her eyes.

"Of course you think that. You're the one who just marked his territory."

"Last night was not about me marking my territory," Chibs said, feeling a little hot about the collar. "I didn't come here for sex. I came to make sure my wife and daughter -"

"Shh, love, I know that," Fiona said, in a tone meant to sooth. Gingerly, she sat back down next to him. "Doesn't change the fact that we needed to do it last night."

"How you reckon?"

"Reaffirmation of life."

Chibs wondered if Fiona thought of the drive-by or Jimmy when she said that.

"I needed you with me last night. And I need a shower this morning. Besides," Fiona pressed an open mouthed kiss to his ear, lips forming one of the best sentences Chibs had heard in a while: "There's an open invitation."

* * *

Fiona pulled her second of three shirts - something of Maureen's kindly lent - and a clean pair of pants out of the small overnight bag shoved in the corner. She peered down at Kerrianne, gratified to see her daughter off in the land of the fairies. Fiona smoothed back errand curls, pressed a kiss to her head. "Love you, little girl."

She opened the bathroom door to steam and an eager husband. His body warm behind hers beneath the spray, hands balanced lightly on her hips, gliding up along the silver scars, from where her belly stretched fifteen years ago to accommodate a baby, to palm her breasts. It's been a while since sex was more than a push and pull, a play for power. With no reason to be on her guard, Fiona goes limp and lazy.

"This good for you, darlin'?" Filip whispered into the back of her neck. His fingers found her nipple.

"Yeah, love. _That's_ grand."

* * *

When Kerrianne woke up it took her a moment to register why the bed beneath her felt hard and unfamiliar. Than the events of the past few weeks came rushing back; a whirl of red and black, the crack of Jimmy's leather belt and the roar of bullets as they ripped threw metal. She reached for her Ma with trembling hands. Father Ashby only had the one spare bedroom with the hard double, which meant her Ma should have been curled up besides her.

Only she was not there.

The sheets on the other side remained tucked in, edges neat and crisp. Not slept in; the other side was not slept in and Kerrianne felt the first stirrings of panic, a hot coil of alarm that sent her tripping out of bed.

She stumbled into the hallway, blinking into the harsh light of the hall lamp. A beam of light eked out from under the loo door. Kerrianne heard the steady tap of water hitting tile and her Ma's laughter. Her Da said something, voice low and lost with the rush of water disappearing down the drain, and her Ma laughed again. Kerrianne's stomach dropped as she realized that her parent's where in the shower together, naked and..._Oh, gross! _

Kerrianne slunk back to bed, curled up in the middle, exhausted, and tried to block out the blurred edges of her memories from becoming sharper.

The last time her Ma went to bed with Jimmy, she'd left it bruised. Nothing suggested her Da would do...that, but Kerrianne still waited for the other shoe to drop (she wondered if the blow of disappointment would feel like a belt breaking upon her back when delivered, if it would leave her physically or emotionally winded). Ma seemed content to sink into her husband's arms, happy even to be there again. Accepting the affection like it was commonplace, and Kerrianne wished again for her Ma's bravery. For her Da's courage so she might put herself before the emotional bullet the next time the shot was fired.

She pressed her thumb to the roof of her mouth, thinking that she was both a Larkin and a Telford, so really if bravery and courage where inherited like eye color or hair texture or skin tone, shouldn't she have them in spades? The felt the cotton of the bandage on her chin. Remembered her Da tying it around the cut on her palm.

Kerrianne stopped sucking her thumb. She stared down at her hand, taking in both her broken nails and the crisp white of the bandage. Wondered what might happen if she acted brave. Would it eventually become second nature and natural?

Kerrianne never pretended to be something she was not, and she never took risks or chances. For every small cruelty Jimmy inflicted, there was a fantasy, childish, of how much better her real Da was. Getting to know the real man, the stranger in the shower with her Ma, seemed as perilous as dousing herself with Chum than swimming sans cage with sharks.

And of course, she realized that she was no stranger to her Da. He had six years of memories; her birth and her birthdays, her first steps and her first words, her first bruise and her first scrape.

But he would remain one to her if she did not do something.

Carefully, as if her newfound spark might fizzle out, Kerrianne pulled herself out of bed.

It was an ungodly hour as she crossed the upstairs hall - trying to ignore any sounds coming from the bathroom - and scampered down the stairs. She was going to put the kettle on and drink tea until her parent's came downstairs, so she could kiss her Da good morning for the first time in nine years.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ If you like this story and haven't read any of Whoneedsasword's fan fiction, go check out her work at: u/4262423/Whoneedsasword.


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